Swallowing hard, she said, “I know, Mom. I just need a few weeks. I’ll be home soon, I promise. How’s Dad?”
“He’s keeping busy. He and your uncle Steven have been going out on the boat almost every afternoon.”
“He’s not drinking, is he?”
“Addison…”
He was. Son of a bitch. She hated her uncle. Never mind his judgmental ass at Braedon’s service—she refused to call it a funeral anymore—he enabled her father, a life-long functioning alcoholic who’d been sober for more than a decade. She stopped walking and moved closer to the building so she was out of everyone’s way.
“Mom, I know this is hard. I know more than anyone how hard this is, but do not make excuses for him. He needs to get his ass to an AA meeting before I get home, or it will not be pretty.”
“He’s suffering, Addison.”
“So are you. So am I. That does not excuse him drinking again.”
Her mother’s sigh was heavy as it came through the phone. “He needs time, just like you do.”
“Mom—” Her voice broke, and she squeezed her eyes to hold back the tears. “I won’t do this again. I won’t.”
“I’ll talk to him tonight when he comes home,” she promised.
“He needs to stay away from Uncle Steve,” Addison said.
“He doesn’t have anyone else to confide in.”
“Who the hell are you?” she asked. “He should be confiding in you. He should be confiding in a grief counselor. He should be confiding in his sponsor. He should not be confiding in the guy that provides him with a case of beer every day.”
“We all deal with loss in our own way, Addison. Some of us bury it, and some of us deny it.”
Her spine went rigid at her mother’s dig. “I have to go.”
“Addison—”
“I’ll call you when I know I’m heading home.” She ended the call and slid her phone back into her pocket. She needed some peace and Nama-fucking-ste.
She reached the park and headed to the farthest corner where the website said the class would be. Assuming the twenty or so people with yoga mats were what she was looking for, she approached the woman standing in front, facing the group.
“Hi. Is this the Harmony Yoga class?” she asked.
“Hi. Yes. I’m Crystal. Did you sign up online?” the woman asked.
“I’m Addison.” Her shoulders sagged. “I didn’t. Was I supposed to?”
“No, not at all. I just didn’t want to charge you if you’d already paid online. The class is five dollars.”
“Of course.” Addison pulled out the bills she’d shoved into the pocket with her phone and ID and handed over a five.
“Do you need a receipt?” Crystal asked.
“No, I’m good.”
Crystal smiled brightly. “Great. Find a spot where you’ll feel comfortable. Please make sure your cell phone and any other electronics are set to silent, and we’ll begin in a few minutes.”
“Thanks.” Addison walked around the group and chose a spot toward the back and side. She could see Crystal but wasn’t in the thick of the group. She smiled at a few people who glanced at her, then unrolled her mat, kicked off her shoes, and dropped her phone, money, and ID on the grass in front of her mat.
“Welcome, everyone.” The small portable speaker next to Crystal amplified her voice enough that Addison could hear her clearly from where she was. “I’m so glad to see several new faces along with so many regulars. If you’ll take a seat on your mat, either cross-legged or in lotus position, we’ll begin.”
Addison sat and crossed her feet over her legs, resting her hands palms up on her knees and splaying her fingers before allowing them to relax.
